


A Wolf's Heart

by Starscream_CharSiew



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Family, Gen, Horror, Petshop of Horrors AU, but more violence and gore really, character deaths even later, so no worries for now, violence comes later, wolf!Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:00:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1499288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starscream_CharSiew/pseuds/Starscream_CharSiew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In trying to keep out of the rain, Haytham unwittingly ends up at a peculiar little shop called 'Count D's Petshop'. In the end, instead of an animal, he ends up bringing a boy, Connor, whom the shopkeeper insists is a wolf, home for free on one condition: he keeps to a contract. With his wolf-like ears and tail, claws, and fangs, Connor becomes an effective member of the Order. All goes well for the next few years and Haytham even begins to see Connor as his son. All is well. Until the contract is broken and all hell breaks lose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the Kink Meme
> 
> I'm sorry of this is no good. This is the first fic I've written for AC and the first fic I have written in a long long time. Also, this is a Petshop of Horrors crossover, but you dont have to have read PoH to read this, it's mostly AC stuff. All you need to know is that this Chinese guy called Count D sells people weird pets and then bad bad things happen. And I live noooo where near England or America so I apologise if I do not get the weather right.

Raining cats and dogs? It might as well have been raining cows and elephants. Usually, the Bostonian rain paled in comparison to the endless gloomy storms of jolly ol' England. But, in the last week or so, it had rained every day, almost without cease. Day after day after day of pouring rain. It should have been impossible for the sky to hold so much water. And it had been so sunny that morning too.

Haytham had left the Templar headquarters that morning in his usual dress, various layers of clothing with his thick blue coat, his cape, and his ever iconic tricorn hat, being overly optimistic that the morning sun had meant a day free of rain had finally arrived. But, alas, he had been wrong. Oh so very wrong. Even before noon, those terrible torrents of cows and elephants had begun. Again.

If not for the fact that his thick clothes had been soaked through, every single layer soaked till they stuck to his skin, he would not have been here. If not for the fact that his hat had acted like a three-spouted fountain atop his head, he would not have had to seek shelter. If not for the fact that he had been so utterly foolish to dress like that during the wet season, he would not have entered the strange shop. To add to Haytham's count of 'misjudged assumptions of the day', he had thought that the shop looked fairly normal. In fact, the only thing that had managed to catch his attention before he had entered the shop had been the barely readable sign through the pouring rain. 'Count D's Pet Shop'.

Upon entering the shop, the Templar had to stop for a moment after having turned around from closing the door behind him. Never had he seen such a place. The place was well decorated, albeit somewhat cluttered, to look genuinely oriental with some bamboo furniture, ornate wooden chairs, tables, and matching windows, porcelain vases, some containing plants and some merely for show, and a folding screen carved out of wood that seemed to divide the front of the shop from a more personal resting area at the back. But before he could further appreciate or make sense of the place, he was interrupted.

"Welcome. May I be of assistance? We have all sorts of pets." A lithe man with shoulder length black hair appeared from the back area of the shop, clad in an unusually embroidered silk robe. "We have animals fit for war and protection as well," he then added calmly as he noticed the sword and pistol strapped the the other's waist.

Haytham nodded in greeting and frowned as the remaining water poured out of the tip of his hat. "I apologise for that. But, no. I am simply trying to keep out of the rain." Now that the other, he assumed he was the owner of this shop, had mentioned it, there were many animals indeed. The walls were lined with cages stacked upon cages of small animals, a few larger ones, such as bigger dogs and what seemed to be a large, feral cougar, at the bottom. But with so many animals, it was strange that the place did not smell. Instead, all he could make out was a faint sweet scent.

"Oh, well, that is a shame," the man replied, his voice equally as calm as before. "But since you are already here, why not have a look around? You have to wait for the rain to stop regardless of how you spend your time. And I am sure i have the perfect pet for you." As the man finished, he turned around to walk further into the shop. "After all, it could do you no harm to have a few more recruits for you cause."

Haytham frowned again at the last statement, wondering how much this man knew. Did he truly know about the Templars, or was it just a lucky guess? Regardless, he was curious as to what the man had meant by a 'perfect pet' and followed him after a few moments of deliberation. After all, there was nothing for him to do while those cows and elephants continued to fall from the sky.

The man had led him to a wooden double sliding door with a circular pattern carved out in the middle further into the shop. "We keep most of our pets here," he had mentioned before sliding one of the doors aside and proceeding forward. What Haytham had seen next was weird and physically impossible. Long corridors. Extremely long corridors that never seemed to end. Along the corridors were different doors, single doors, double doors, sliding doors, all designed differently, yet all with the same oriental theme. He assumed pets were behind those doors, but it seemed strange to keep animals in such a place and not in cages like he had seen before. It took him a while, but he eventually noticed that the sweet smell from before had become stronger as he walked further into the depths of the shop, now becoming the only thing he could smell. It smelt like burning incense, but he could not be sure.

Eventually, the man stopped at a dead end with a noticeably larger set of double doors at the end. "He came in just last week, caught from deep in the forests of the Frontier," the man commented as he opened the doors and motioned for Haytham to step in. "This wild animal would make a great fighter. He does not have a family either and I am sure he would appreciate one. I am sure you would too." He then stepped into the room after the Templar and stood behind him. "Meet Ratonhnhaké:ton."

The room was dark and somewhat hard to see in, but there was no mistaking the fact that what Haytham saw sitting on a large, throne-like chair at the far end of the room was a boy. Not an animal, but a teenaged boy dressed in native clothing. Shock had appeared on the Templar's face for a moment, but was gone as quickly as it came.

"You told me this was a pet shop, not a bloody slave traders." Every word that left the man's lips was sharp, but he did not raise his voice nor yell. "Unless you mean to tell me that you view these men as no more than pets."

Despite the Templar's cold glare that was shot at him as he walked forward towards the boy, the shopkeeper's calm half-smile did not falter. "Oh no no no," he simply responded. "I assure you, all we have here are pets. This is a wolf." To prove his point, the man lifted one of the boy's hands, drawing the other's attention to the sharp and sturdy claws that tipped the boy's fingers instead of nails. The man then asked the boy to open his mouth, revealing a set of razor sharp fangs and noticeably larger canines.

Haytham had remained skeptical and unimpressed, assuming that this man had somehow managed to file and condition the boy's teeth and nails into such forms. That was until his attention had been brought to the boy's ears and tail. Tail. The man had reached down, lifting what seemed to be a dark brown lump of fur from behind the boy. It was only when that made the boy turn to glare at him, his pointy ears, which poked out of his black just-short-of-shoulder-length hair, flaring forward, that he realised that that lump of fur belonged to, and was part of, the boy. Just how had he not noticed that the boy had dark brown wolf-like ears atop his head and a matching tail?

"Just- What have you done to this boy?" Haytham breathed, taking a few steps closer to the other two. There was no way this boy was a wolf. He just could not believe it. But, if he was not, what atrocities had this man done to this boy to make him have such features?

"Nothing. As I have said before, Ratonhnhaké:ton is a wolf, not a human child. I have not done anything," the man replied calmly.

Unconvinced, Haytham took a few more steps closer to inspect the boy. Judging by the way the boy's ears moved in response to his movements, they were very real indeed. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the boy's skin seemed a little lighter than those of the natives he usually saw. In fact, it almost looked as if he had been born of both a native and a white man, which was strange. What was even stranger was that as his mind wandered in that direction, he began to notice the similarity in the boy's features to his own. The way his face was angled, his nose, his mouth... But those eyes, those eyes were unmistakably Ziio's. That realisation made something in his chest clench slightly. If he and Ziio had had a child, maybe he would have looked something like that... But it was impossible. Ziio had left more than ten years ago. If only Ziio had stayed, had supported his cause, had joined the Order, maybe then they would have-

"I think you should take this one. He really seems to like you." The man's words pulled Haytham out of his thoughts, making him look at the boy once more. If anything, it looked more like the boy had something against him. The boy looked constantly on high alert, his ears erect and forward facing, staring at him with cold eyes as if he was glaring.

"Oh yes, I am sure," he had replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He was no fool. This man was just trying to get him to buy this 'pet'.

"But he does," came the man's reply. "If he did not, you would be in pieces by now. And, if you bring him home, it would be your enemies who will be in pieces. Wolves can be extremely loyal creatures of you treat them well."

Haytham frowned slightly, running the thought through his mind. Normally, he would never, not in a thousand years, entertain the thought of purchasing someone, wolf or not. But, for some reason, something compelled him to bring this boy home. He tried to tell himself it was not because he looked like Ziio, or because he missed her, or even because he would have loved to have had a family with her if he had had the time... No. This boy would be an asset to the Order, and nothing else. If what the man had said was true, this boy would be an invaluable tool for getting rid of the Assassins, should they ever come back, and disposing of those who proved to be a nuisance.

"How much for...?" the Templar asked, pausing before the boy's name, knowing that he would not be able to pronounce it.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," the man quickly supplemented, "but you may call him whatever you like. And, nothing. All you need to do is sign this contract."

Despite the fact that Haytham stared at him like he was a madman, he calmly turned to retrieve a sheet of paper from a small decorative drawer beside him. How could someone run a pet shop and not charge their customers? How did this man afford this place? It must have been a joke. No man would give his wares away for free.

But, true to his word, the man said nothing about a price and simply handed the sheet of paper to Haytham. It was a contract, but with only three simple clauses:

_1\. Do not feed the pet chocolate_

_2\. Allow the pet hunt for food in the Frontier_

_3\. Never betray the pet_

Seeing that they all seemed fairly simple and easy to follow, and seeing that there was nothing the shopkeeper could use against him, Haytham took the quill the man had offered and signed. The contract was returned to the man, and after he had looked it over, was returned to the drawer it came from.

"You must remember never to break any part of the contract," the man then warned, the half-smile disappearing for a moment to reveal a more serious expression. "Now," his smile had returned, "let us bring your wolf outside. I am sure the rain has stopped." Haytham did not believe the rain would ever end, not to mention anytime soon, but said nothing in return. Instead, he directed his attention to his new 'pet'.

"From now on, your name shall be Connor," he began in a stern voice. "You shall address me as Master Kenway, as the rest of the recruits do, and serve the Order. Now come." As he finished, Haytham turned around to follow the other man out, thus beginning the seemingly endless journey back to the front of the shop. Connor's slight frown had deepened a little at the man's words, but got off the throne-like chair nonetheless and followed the two men out wordlessly.

Eventually, they came to a set of sliding doors Haytham recognised as the entrance to the endless corridors and made it back to the shop front. To his surprise, the rain had indeed stopped. Unfortunately, he was still wet. His clothes had dried off a little, but there was no way such a thick coat could dry completely in such a short period of time. Deciding not to ask in case there was a price to pay for his 'pet', but the man had simply forgotten, he made his way to the door without another word.

However, as he opened the front door and was about to leave, he stopped and craned his head to look at the man as he spoke once more, "Thank you for coming. Please remember take care of Connor and keep to the contract."

Haytham simply nodded and stepped out of the shop. But just before the door had shut, he heard one last thing from the man.

_"If you treat a wolf well, he will give you his heart. Betray him, and he will take yours."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is not too bad ;A; And, if anyone is wondering, I am setting this chapter in 1769, the year in which Connor went off to look for Achilles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thank those few people who are still reading this. Eheheh. And I tried my best to research about travel in the 18th century, but did not get much... So I apologise if I get something wrong. Anyways, i hope this chapter is alright :3

"Where are we going?"

There was no response.

Thinking that the other had not heard him, he tried again. "Where are we going?"

Still, there was no response.

Connor frowned, now knowing that he was being ignored. With bitterness in his voice, he tried something else.

" _Master Kenway_ , where are we going?"

"Oh, so you do have some manners," the other finally replied, half-heartedly feigning surprise and delight. "And you can speak too. What a surprise." Honestly, the Templar had been relieved, and even a little surprised, to find that the boy could speak, but none of it showed.

Connor's frown only deepened, now wondering why he had agreed to leave with this man. "Where. Are. We. Going."

'Master Kenway' seemed somewhat amused by the other's displeasure, but answered nonetheless. "We are going to the harbour."

"What for?"

This time, the other stopped in his tracks just to turn around and stare at Connor as if he were an idiot before turning around and continuing once more. "We need to get back to headquarters. You need to be trained and i have work to do."

Ever since they had stepped out of that pet shop, the man had not said a word. They had simply walked on in silence. It was not Connor's fault if he knew nothing. His knowledge of human society was already limited. How was he to know about this 'headquarters' and especially that 'Order' the other had spoken of. Perhaps he would ask about it later. At this point, it seemed impossible to get an answer without pushing or getting insulted. So he continued to follow the other without a word.

As he walked, he could not help but think that he had heard the name 'Master Kenway' before. But when had he heard it? With his brows knitted slightly, he tried to recall the name, but to no avail. Finally, he growled softly in frustration and gave up.

Deciding to put the matter aside for the time being, Connor observed the world around him instead. It was truly fascinating. So many people, so many structures built by man, so much activity, and so many sounds and scents for him to take in. With a deep intake of breath, he could make out the stench of dirty humans, the perfumes of the rich, the musk of the horses, the smell of raw meat, the sweet aroma of fruits... Not all the scents were pleasing, but they were interesting.

However, these sights, smells, and sounds could only blind him for so long. He soon realised that his presence had attracted stares and many looks of disgust. Even for him, who had close to no knowledge of humans, it was plain to see that the white man was superior. Those of his skin colour, or sometimes even darker, were often seen serving the fairer race or doing menial labour. To make matters worse, he was sure his brown-furred ears and tail were only attracting more attention.

Thankfully, it had only taken another few minutes for them to arrive at the harbour. Now, the harbour was even more fascinating. So much so that Connor could not help but gasp softly at what he saw with wide eyes. An endless expanse of water smelling strongly of salt and minerals. With so much salt, nothing should have been able to drink, let alone live in, that water. And yet, he could only stare in awe as a fish was expertly landed by a fisherman at the quieter end of the docks. As if that was not enough, Connor then noticed the huge structures that floated on the water. How could such massive constructs, even larger than the buildings he had seen before, float? A simple pebble could not stay afloat, and yet this monstrosity could? All these humans, they made no sense.

Before he could get distracted any more, Connor forced his attention back to 'Master Kenway'. The ears atop his head still twitched and tried to trace and sources of all the interesting sounds around him, but his focus was on the man and where they were headed.

They soon arrived at their destination: a little wooden counter with a man behind it and a sign that hung above his head. Unfortunately, wolves could not read.

"Harbourmaster,"

Ah, so this man was the harbourmaster.

"I require a ship, a ship to Virginia within the next few days."

The harbourmaster nodded and and looked down to flip though a thick book on his counter, presumably his log book of sorts, and soon looked up again.

"Sure thing, we've got a cargo ship to Virginia leavin' tomorrow. Ye' can speak to the capt'n over there. Just one problem, sir. Capt'n ain't gonna ferry his kind." As he finished, he gestured towards Connor. "No can do fer ye'."

Before Connor could say anything, or even react, a blade had appeared from the Templar's sleeve after a quick flick of his wrist. In one swift motion, he leaned over the counter slightly, hooked the harbourmaster's neck with his arm and pulled him closer, pressing the blade against his neck.

"You will let me have a ship, and you will let me bring him aboard," the Templar said, his voice strangely just as calm as before. But with every word, he applied a little more pressure onto the man's neck until a thin line of blood could be seen as the blade began to cut into his skin.

"I-it's not up to me, sir!" the man quickly replied, his voice trembling, eyes wide with fear. "Capt'n makes the decisions, n-not me! I can't do a-anything for you, s-sir!"

"Well, then that's just too bad."

Connor watched as the Templar raised his arm, just about to plunge the blade into the petrified harbourmaster's neck. No. He would not let the innocent die. With lighting fast reflexes, he grabbed onto the man's arm before he could execute the kill and pulled him back and away from the harbourmaster. But the Templar was stronger and quickly broke away from the boy's hold.

"What do you think you are doing, Connor!" The harbourmaster was temporarily forgotten as the Templar glared at the boy instead, his blade quickly sliding back into its sheathe with another flick of his wrist.

"We will not kill those who need not die," Connor replied sharply.

The Templar looked as is he was about to explode or hit the boy, but gave up and instead grunted in anger and disapproval as he turned around to speak to the harbourmaster again, only to find that he was gone.

"Now that you are such a righteous and _intelligent_ boy, pray tell, how are we going to get back to headquarters?" he then asked, turning back to face Connor.

"We can walk."

"Oh, yes, how could it possibly have slipped my mind?" The Templar replied, feigning surprise once more. "Of course we could walk! It does not matter that it would take us a _whole_ month to get home! We could always walk." By the end of it, he was glaring at Connor again.

"We will walk."

'Master Kenway' aimed his cold glare at Connor for s few more minutes, waiting for the boy to say anything else. But when nothing came, only another glare in return, he finally relented. "Fine. We will walk. Let us see just how much of the Order's time you will waste." With that, he walked off, leaving the harbour and expecting the wolf to follow.

***

Connor followed the Templar in silence until they reached the inn in which he had been staying. His presence had once again attracted many stares, but thankfully, the innkeeper had been busy and said nothing. Keeping his ears up at high alert, in case anyone was stupid enough attack or confront him for being here, he followed the other upstairs to his room.

The room was small with the only items in it being a bed and a bag of what seemed to be the Templar's belongings in a corner.

"You will stay here. I need to inform the Order of our speedy mode of transport home else they worry for my absence," 'Master Kenway' had said soon after entering the room and had already turned to leave from the door they had came in from.

"I repeat, you will not leave this room. No matter what," he said sternly just before closing the door and thus was facing the boy once more. "And a tailor. I shall tell them to prepare a tailor. Your outfit will only attract more attention."

With the thud of the shutting door, 'Master Kenway' was gone. Now he could look through the man's stuff. Joy.

***

By the time the Templar had returned from writing and sending his letter out, the sun had almost set and Connor had long finished looking through the little belongings the Templar had. There was nothing interesting there. With nothing else to do, he had decided to sit by the small window, observing the people on the street below. It was interesting to see what people did, how they behaved, how different classes of people dressed and behaved differently...

"Get some rest. Tomorrow, we leave before the sun rises," the other instructed as he removed his hat and coat.

Connor simply nodded in reply and finally tore his gaze away from the street below.

With only one small bed, the boy was left to sleep on the floor, curled up in a ball with his head resting on his folded arms.

***

Before he knew it, he was awake, something nudging him in his side. But he was still tired. Instead of getting up, he whined softly and buried his head under his arms, hoping to get a little more sleep. But, instead of being left alone, he received a kick in his side with a pained yelp.

"What was that for?" he complained as he slowly sat up, clutching his side and slowly cracking an eye open.

"You were not getting up," the Templar replied as if it were common sense. "We must leave before anyone else wakes. So hurry."

Slowly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and dragging himself up from the floor, Connor asked, "What for?" With that, he yawned and stretched once he was standing, feeling a few of his joints pop.

"We will need horses."

"But i cannot ride!"

"You will."

That was the only reply the boy got before the Templar swiftly left the room, already fully dressed and with his belongings packed and slung across his shoulder. Connor could only frown and quickly follow behind the man.

He followed the other silently all the way to the edge of the city where the gates were. Being so early in the morning, there were few guards and those that were on duty looked to be half-asleep.

Following the other, Connor crept silently and dove into a bush after him. There, the Templar silently gestured towards two horses in a corner with only one guard standing before them. After instructing Connor to stay put, he slowly crept towards the unsuspecting guard.

Connor watched as the man managed to creep up behind the guard as he was looking elsewhere and, in one swift motion, put his hand over the guard's mouth, muffling his cries, and stabbing the man in the back with the wrist-blade from before. After quickly dragging the body into a bush, he motioned for Connor to come over. The boy was quick to comply, but then came the problem. The moment the wolf came near the horses, they freaked out. The horses whinnied and reared, stomping their hooves and attempted to step backwards into the wall to distance themselves from the predator. Connor immediately flattened his ears back against his scalp and tried to make himself look as small as possible, trying to show that he meant no harm, while the Templar attempted to calm the horses. Even though they quietened slightly, it was too late. The guards had heard them. Within seconds, the Red-coats were all around them. It was a good thing there were only a few at this hour.

"You will only kill those who need to die, yes?" the Templar asked, slowly backing up to cover Connor's back as the guards drew nearer. Upon receiving a nod from the boy, he continued, "If the guards, Red-coats or Blue-coats, get in our way, they must die." With that, the Templar flicked both his wrists, releasing two short blades just in time to parry an attack from one of the guards.

Connor did not look convinced, but he did not have much of a choice. At this point, it was kill or be killed. With a feral snarl, he bared his fangs and leapt at one of the guards, collapsing the man onto his back with his weight. He might still have been growing and was still a head shorter than most men, but he was strongly built with dense muscles. This fight should not be a problem. Before that man could react, Connor clamped his jaws down on his neck, severing his aorta and his windpipe. As the man wheezed his last breath, the wolf leapt off, dodging the jab of a sword and charged at his attacker on all fours. With another snarl, the man was knocked down and insides ripped open with his claws. Now face and hands smeared with blood, Connor got up and looked around him, growling at the guards around him, swords drawn but trembling with fear. It did not take long for the rest of the guards to fall. Finally, the wolf spotted the last guard. This one had a different uniform and seemed to be of a higher rank for he put up a strong fight. Deciding to aid 'Master Kenway', he charged forward and leapt onto the guard, knocking him down, face-first into the ground. Keeping the man down with his weight, he bit into the back of his neck and violently jerked his head to the side, snapping the man's neck. Connor remained on top of the dead man for a while, panting, but eventually stood up again, only to find the Templar watching him with a look of disgust.

"When we get back, you will learn to fight properly," he said, looking at all the blood the boy managed to get onto himself.

Connor frowned and glared at the man. He had helped. Why was he being criticised? He had been efficient as well! Regardless, he followed the Templar back towards the horses, this time careful not to spook them again.

After a few instructions from the man, he attempted to get onto one of the horses, only for it to freak out and rear once more, throwing the poor boy off.

"The horses do not seem to like you at all." Thank you captain obvious. "You may have to break every horse you intend to ride again," the man sighed.

"Break the horse?"

"It is taming the horse in a sense. It will try to throw you off, but you need to hold on until it gives up. You need to show the horse that there is nothing it can do to get rid of you, and it will let you ride it."

Connor nodded and tried again. This time, he made sure to steady himself and place his feet in the stirrups as quickly as possible and gripped onto the reigns tightly, ready for the horse to start rearing again. It did, and it neighed and whinnied loudly, before it bucked, trying to throw the wolf off itself. The boy growled and persisted, quickly sitting back down after almost being thrown off a few times.

After a while, the horse seemed tired and eventually stopped. Wanting to see if it had worked, Connor instructed the horse horse to walk forward, and to his surprise, it did. With a triumphant grin, the boy exclaimed, "Master Kenway, look! I did it!"

"Yes, yes." But 'Master Kenway did not seem amused. "We have wasted enough time. We must leave quickly." With that, he got onto the other horse.

The wolf looked rather dejected for a moment before resigning himself to the fact that the Templar probably never said anything nice. Quietly, he followed behind the other and rode out of Boston's gates and out into the frontier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I hope this story is not too draggy ^^" I shall try to make it more interesting. Anyways, thank you for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so late! I actually started on this chapter 2 months ago, but on the week i was writing and planning to finish this chapter, i got sick for a few days. Then schoolwork started pilling up, and projects were due.... So.... And then i took my one month holiday off. And then exams right after those. Since school is gonna be even tougher this second half of the year and chapter might take really long, I promise you guys i am not abandoning this fic (:

As they approached a small stream, Haytham instructed Connor to stop and got off his horse. It was about noon when they had finally stopped. Since they had woken up and had stolen the horses, they had not had anything to eat. They needed to get back to headquarters as soon as possible, but they still needed food and water.

"We will need some food," Haytham commented as he secured his horse to a tree and retrieved two water skins from his bag. He had only brought one with him on his journey to Boston, but had gotten another while sending his letter out the day before.

"I could hunt," Connor replied.

"Do wolves not hunt in packs?" Haytham had bent down by the river to fill the skins, but looked up at the boy for a moment.

"I never had a pack. I had to learn to hunt on my own, after..." Connor then paused for a moment, as if wondering if he should continue. When Haytham continued to watch him, expecting him to finish, he then continued, "My mother taught me the basics. But she passed on long ago."

"Oh," was the only response the Templar could give before going back to filling the water skins. "I am sorry to hear that," he added a while later. Losing his father had not been easy. He doubted it had been easy for the boy.

After a few moments of silence, the Templar rose, handing one of the filled skins to Connor. "Strap that onto your horse. And go get us some food.

"Yes, Master Kenway," the boy replied and quickly tied the water skin to the saddle of his horse. As soon as he was done, he looked around, as if looking for something, before running towards a tree. With his running start, he managed to clamber up the tree and grabbed one of the lower branches, his claws digging into the bark. He then pulled himself up and leapt off onto another tree.

Haytham watched for a moment as Connor leapt from tree to tree, slowly disappearing from sight. It had been a long time since he had seen anyone do that. In fact, the last time he had seen it was when he had tried to chase Ziio down, hoping to form an alliance with her. It was also then that he had found that he could not climb a tree to save his life. He simply could not find the right way to get up one. And even that one time where he did, while desperately trying to catch up with the native woman, he had lost his balance on the rounded branches and promptly slipped off. It was a good thing the snow had been so thick and cushioned his fall.

He chuckled softly at the thought before sighing, his solemn expression returning once more. Those few short months had been blissful. But he would probably never see her again. Now all he had was this boy who reminded him of her.

As he gathered a few sticks and small branches from the ground to start a fire, his mind continued to wander. He wondered what it would have been like if they really had a child. Would he have looked like Connor? Would Ziio have wanted a child? Maybe they could all have headed the Order together. It was a nice thought, but also an impossible one.

Soon, a small fire had been set up by the river, ready to cook whatever the wolf brought back. Haytham sat down by it, waiting.

It was not long before Connor returned, with him a dead deer.

"Hand it to me. I will get it cooked," the Templar said as he got up. But the wolf instead immediately stopped in his tracks and pulled the dear that had been dragging along the ground behind him a little closer.

"I will not be eating my meat raw," Haytham then said sternly, approaching the other. "So hand it over." This only made the wolf take a step back in response.

It was only when the taller man had ended up standing right before the boy, staring him down and daring him to continue holding on to the carcass that he spoke. "Just as you do not eat your meat raw, I do not eat mine cooked."

"Well, isn't that a pity," the Templar then replied with mock sympathy, "for you will just have to learn." By the end of his sentence, Haytham's expression had returned to that of a glare and, being taller, easily reached around the boy to pull the dear from his grasp. But Connor was also quick to react. With a rather high pitched growl, the wolf leapt at the man just as he turned around, latching onto his shoulders and back, his claws tearing into the thick fabric of the Templar's cloak. Though the boy was smaller, his limbs were strong and the force had sent the unprepared Templar falling forward. Haytham, however, was stronger and more experienced and had braced himself before he had hit the ground. With a quick roll onto his back, the wolf was immobilised and deprived of air under his weight. He was then easily knocked off the man's back, despite a few more tears in the Templar's clothes, and was pressed down onto the ground with a hand around his throat.

"You will learn to treat me and my commands with respect," the Templar hissed through clenched teeth and pressed down on the boy's throat a little harder, making the boy choke and desperately claw at the other's hand for air. Ignoring then pain, Haytham continued, "I am the Grandmaster of the Templar Order and your master as well. When i ask you to hand the meat over, you will jolly well give it to me." With that, he released the boy and got up, taking the dear with him, putting it down near the fire before heading to the river to quickly rinse the blood off the small gashes on his hand.

Getting up and turning around to head back to the fire a few moments later, he saw Connor still sitting on the ground where he had left him, his knees pulled up to his chest, looking down, and gingerly rubbing his sore neck. Maybe it was the responsibility for the boy he felt, or maybe it was the boy's resemblance to Ziio. But whatever it was, he felt sorry for the boy. With a sigh, he drew a dagger from his coat and hacked one of the legs off the deer.

"Here, you may have this," Haytham offered as he lay the leg down beside him, hoping the boy would come over. He then looked back down at the carcass, using the knife to slice the meat off the bones. Strips of meat would cook more quickly and could easily be stored. However, he still continued to watch the wolf approach him slowly out of the corner of his eye. It was strange to see the boy slowly creep towards him on all fours, his ears pressed back against his scalp in what seemed to be defense and a hint of fear. It took a while, but Connor eventually got close enough to lean down, about to pick the meat up between his jaws, his eyes darting up and down between the Templar and the meat.

"Do not even think about it," Haytham said sternly the moment the boy's teeth clamped down on the leg. "You will remain here to eat." Turning to look at the boy and seeing his uneasy expression, he added, "I will not attack you unless you do." Only then did the wolf slowly sit down beside the other, watching him warily.

"Eat quickly, we will leave the moment the meat is done," the Templar ordered when he saw that the boy now held the leg in his hands, watching him instead of eating. Despite watching Connor, he continued with his work, skewering each chunk of meat on sticks he managed to pick off the branches and sticking them into the ground beside the fire. When he was done, he got up for a moment, cutting a strip of cloth off his carrier and tied it around his injured hand before sitting back down.

After a few moments of silence with only the gushing of the stream and the crackling of the fire in the background, Haytham spoke once more, "There is nothing wrong with you eating your meat raw, but you will have to learn to tolerate it cooked." He saw the boy look up from his meal at that, his clawed hands and his face bloodied, before shaking his head with a sigh. "Hunting and cleaning up after your meals will waste our time, precious time _you_ have wasted since you insisted we walk. We do not have salt to preserve the meat, but cooked meat will be dry and will keep for a few days, making it possible for us to eat as we travel."

Connor, however, seemed disinterested and had continued to eat, not responding to anything the man had said. Frowning, Haytham decided he needed to make sure the boy was listening and showed some respect.

"Am I clear?" he then asked, only to receive no response but the wolf looking up at him briefly. Now clearly upset, the Templar tried again, "Connor," this time making sure he had the boy's attention, "you will look at me when I speak to you and answer when prompted." Pausing for a moment and making sure the other was still looking at him and had put his meal on hold, he then continued, enunciating every word with harsh and sharp precision, "Am. I. Clear?"

Somewhat intimidated, Connor nodded with his ears pressed down once more and mumbled something in response.

"And you will speak clearly," Haytham ordered. "Now, what did you say?"

"Yes, Master Kenway," the boy then replied begrudgingly, but still looked down.

"I said you will look at me. What. Did. You. Say."

"Yes, Master Kenway," Connor finally repeated clearly and glared at the man.

"Good," the Templar responded, looking somewhat calmer. "And I assume you understand that you will have to learn to tolerate cooked and stale meat thanks to your foolishness at the harbour?"

"Yes, Master Kenway," came the unwilling reply.

"Very good. Now finish up your meal and we will be leaving. We have a lot of ground to cover."

The next few minutes were spent with Haytham moving the cooked meat away from the fire to cool as he ate a piece he had removed a few minutes prior. The meat was still somewhat palatable, unlike the tough, dry meats that had been cooked for longer to facilitate their transportation. Once he was done, he noticed that Connor was done as well and had headed to the river to wash the blood off his face and hands. He then quickly packed the meat into two separate cloths and handed one to the boy when he had returned.

"This will be your food for the next few days. Take care of it." Those were the Templar's last words before he untied and got onto his horse and took off. He was sure Connor would be quick to follow.

***

The next few days were rather uneventful. Haytham remained mostly quiet as he navigated the forests and Connor was more often than not busy trying to tear and get used to the tough meat he had been given. They stopped whenever they crossed a stream or river to refill their water skins and set up camp for the night whenever they needed to restock on food. Other nights they would take shifts, letting one sleep on the horse while the other guided the horses slowly through the shadows. Haytham had been careful to guide them away from patrolling guards along the way and avoided the small towns that laid between them and their destination. It was only about a week and a half later that they finally decided to stop by a town, knowing that their horses were too tired to carry on at that pace. If they did not want to slow down, they would need new horses.

*** 

"Your presence might arouse suspicion. You will need to assume the role of my slave," Haytham instructed before turning his head to look at the boy beside him, only to see the most offended expression the boy had made to date. With a sigh, the Templar added, "Look, I would never approve of slavery in any way. The Order's mission is for all to be equal under our rule, with no slavery or oppression. You just have to _act_ like a slave. Is that really so difficult?"

"Yes, it is," Connor replied defiantly. "First of all, what is this 'Order' you keep talking about? And, if that is the 'Order's mission, what is yours?"

"The Order's mission is my mission, and soon will be yours as well. You will get a proper introduction once we get back to headquarters,"Haytham replied without a thought.

"But why go through such unecessry means? Why not just charge into the town and take two of their horses? We could be in and out in minutes."

Haytham scoffed in response, somewhat amused. "And what, risk being pursued by the soldiers? If we cannot lose them on the way out, or get caught before we can get our horses switched, we will have to kill them. And I thought you were all about saving the innocent and not killing unnecessarily." Seeing that the boy was now quiet and glared down at the ground with no counterargument, the Templar briefly allowed a small smirk to slip before getting off his horse. "Now, get off your horse and follow me. Grab their reigns and keep your head down. We have some scouting to do."

Walking ahead, Haytham believed Connor would soon follow, both horses in tow. It was still evening and the sun was still up. It was too early for the switch to take place. Far too many people were up and about. But the few, probably about two, the Templar had estimated, remaining hours of daylight were not to be wasted. There was much to do. First, a trip to the shops to look for useful items or equipment to replace their own if necessary. Then a round around the town to see where best to switch their horses. Lastly, they needed to figure out where the small patrol of soldiers made their rounds and how long each round took.

And the duo did precisely that until the sun had set, plunging the town into darkness save the lights emanating from windows and a few lit lamps.

Taking advantage of the darkness, Haytham led Connor and the two horses through the shadows, making sure no one saw them, to a farm, the furthest he could find from the centre of the town. It was so far out, it would take at least half an hour for the soldiers to return. Silently, they made a their way towards the stables where a few horses rested. The saddles, saddle bags, and reigns were then stripped off the original horses once the strongest looking horses had been picked. For Haytham, preparing his new horse had been simple and quick and he got onto it as soon as he was done. However, it was more complicated for the poor wolf. Just as Connor's spooked horse had alerted the soldiers last time, this horse could do the same. And Connor seemed to know that for he approached his horse with extreme caution. Haytham watched, both rather impressed at the boy's progress and curious as to how this would turn out, as the boy slowly approached the tense horse, crouching and his posture hunched, making himself look as small as possible, and with his ears back in what looked to be submission. He eventually managed to approach the horse, but it still stomped and whinnied uneasily once he was too close.

"Shhh, be quiet. I will not hurt you," he heard the boy whisper while slowly getting closer, his voice soft and calming. He moved his hand towards the horse slowly, letting it slowly adjust to his proximity.

The horse still took a few steps back, shaking its head and still remained tense. But, by some miracle, the boy managed to get one hand on its neck. Whispering softly once more, what he had said the Templar could not hear, Connor gently stroked the horse's neck, slowly calming it. Soon, the horse had been calmed and the boy managed another hand on the horse and even his face for a brief moment, almost as if he had the horse in an embrace. With what looked to be confidence in the boy's eyes that the horse would be fine, he retrieved his saddle and reigns and slowly outfitted his horse. Once he was done, he gently pet the horse once more, making sure it was completely calm and not bothered by his presence, before climbing onto it. Immediately, Connor grabbed onto the reigns tightly, waiting for the horse to panic and attempt to throw him off. But, to his surprise, and Haytham's as well, the horse remained still, only neighing softly and taking a step forward and back.

At that, Haytham could not help but let a small smile pull at his lips and sent a nod of approval in the boy's direction, which was quickly received with the brightest, and one of the only, smiles he had seen from the boy. It looked not only to be happiness, but pride and fulfillment as well.

"Now," the Templar said, his smile still on his face, "let us ride."

With a kick to his horse's side, Haytham was off, galloping out of the farm and towards the trees. The sound of hooves behind him indicated the boy's presence, so he remained silent for a few minutes, making sure they were well away from the town and out of the soldiers' patrol radius before he finally slowed his horse to a trot and spoke again.

"It is good to see that you have learnt something on this trip," the Templar commented as he turned his head to look at the boy who quickly pulled up beside him.

Connor had smiled at first, but it soon faded and was replaced with a scowl. "Yes, but I will not play your slave again. No offense, _Master Kenway_ , but you have no idea what you had put me through."

Haytham frowned at that, having only expected a positive response from the boy. "However painful it was, it was necessary and it was an order. You should not be complaining," he then stated in reply.

"Who are you to judge when you do not know what it is like?" Connor sneered. "The way the people looked at me as I trailed behind you, the way they mocked me when you were away. Do you know what that feels like?"

Before Haytham could respond, the wolf continued.

"'Being treated like an animal' would have been bliss as compared to that. At least when you humans see me as a wolf, you see value. But as a slave, I am nothing!"

"You will be quiet!" the Templar then snapped in reply. He had heard enough. He would never admit it, but it pained him to hear such things. "Sacrifices have to be made." He did not have it in him to apologise to a new recruit, not like this. But the guilt of making the boy suffer ate at him. Again, it must have been the boy's resemblance to Ziio for he said nothing to Connor for the rest of the night and did not wake him for his shift out of guilt.

After that night, the rest of the journey went on as per normal. And after a total of thirty-seven days since they had left Boston, Haytham and Connor had swapped horses twice, run into a group of bandits, which were easily dealt with, gotten dehydrated once or twice, and had managed to travel all the way from Boston to Virginia. They were finally at the last leg of their journey.

At mid-day, the Templar slowed and came to stop at the edge of a clearing, Connor stopping beside him soon after. "What is it, Master Kenway?" "After wasting an entire month," the Templar began his reply, turning to face Connor in mock anger, "we have finally arrived." The sentence ended with a smile and he turned to face the horizon once more. "See that, Connor," he began, this time his voice filled with kindness and sincerity, and pointed at a compound with a large white house in the centre in the distance, "that, is your home. We are home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams now urgh ;A; Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I apologise if any of you are going 'why is this so draggy where is the plot going'... I will try to make it more interesting... And i also apologise if i get the Templar headquarters wrong in any way. I could not get any info on it other than the fact that it is in Virginia. But, it anything is different, take it as part of this AU hahaha. And i think the characters are getting ooc weh T^T See you guys in the next chapter!


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